


About Wanting

by Legendary-Destiel (Legendary_Royalty)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas loves Dean, Coda 15x19, Dean Loves Cas, Dean's POV, Drunk Dean Winchester, M/M, Or maybe it is, Plot What Plot, Sexual Content, Swearing, Wings, a little bit poetic at the beginning, but cas is there, celebrating Chucks defeat, gorgeous angel of the lord, making out in the bunker, not really a coda because i started this a long time ago, obviously, oh and how they celebrate, the power of destiel, you know me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:34:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27577262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendary_Royalty/pseuds/Legendary-Destiel
Summary: Cas finally has enough of Dean’s subtextual nonsense. A 4-act-short-fic with a slightly poetic intro before it goes downwards. A little story of how they celebrate Chucks defeat. Explicit content. Not much talking, mainly feelings. (Drunk) Dean’s POV.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 24
Kudos: 72





	1. Thunderstorm

**Author's Note:**

> Not much talking. Not much plot. Mainly feelings.  
> No, wait. Actually, this is a mess. :P I’m sorry.  
> Or uhm… thank my own slightly drunk brain for this thing. ^^
> 
> I started to write this a long time ago (the first chapter i submitted to the "SPN stay at home"-challenge) and I never thought I would finish it... until 15x18 came along and OH BOY my Destiel-heart is beating faster than ever before. :D
> 
> PS: Please read the tags. It's getting hot in here.

**Act 1 – Thunderstorm (Intro)**

He didn’t see it coming. None of it.

However, he did nothing to defend himself. He just let it consume him entirely. Yes, he let the storm flood roll all over him: Destructive, prepossessing, overwhelming. The force of nature clashed relentlessly against the foundation of the rock shore which was his own body and shook it to the core.

Even if he wanted, there was nothing he could do.

His head was all empty, as if a hurricane just blew all of his thoughts and doubts and fears away to a place he would never find them again. His guts were none existent, because they fell into a crevice of the earth, caused by an earthquake stronger than every other rumbling he ever felt.

There was only his heart left inside him, and the hot blood; of course; rushing through his veins, fast like a lightning, and he heard nothing else but the rhythm of his pulse, loud like thunder in his ears, pounding against the walls of his temples, preventing him from fainting right away.

His legs were shaking, as an unforeseen power pushed his weight upon them, and he was caught completely.

No chance to even try to grasp the situation properly.

He was burning. Burning down to his very core, right to the bottom of his soul, and he knew there would only remain a pile of grey ashes of him when this was over. When this divinity was done with him, there would be nothing left of his kingdom of denial and suppression and maybe he would rise like a golden phoenix, but there was no reason to believe he’d be the same again after this sudden conquest of his realm.

His eyes were open all the time, but now the blurry dust was finally washed away by irresistible blue waves of ocean irises, and the cloud cover tore open at last.

And so it began do dawn on him.

The thunderstorm which left Dean all breathless and in awe had a name. A name, he craved for to moan from his desiccated lips, ready to be dampened by its salvific downpour. A name, he had known since his heart started to beat again on that fateful day in September.

A name, that belonged to him like the river needed rain.

_Castiel_.


	2. Whiskey Manner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is talking pretty much nonsense when he's drunk... Time for Cas to show him what he really wants.

**Act 2 – Whiskey manner**

Dean was drunk.

 _Fuck_ , he was full like a barrel, the whiskeys after the beers were too tasty, their victory was too good to be true, and now, they were _too alone_. The conversation went down immediately as Sam and Jack left for bed. After they had discussed their great teamwork in this epic battle against Chuck, Dean reached the level where the alcohol made him either melancholic or… horny.

Unavoidably, he started to flirt. Started to say silly things about Ernie and Bert, Thelma and Louise, Ennis and Jack. Things, that have always been addressed to Cas, even ten (eleven?) years ago, and it never changed. His dirty cowboy-fetish, Doctor Sexy MD, etc. – the words spilled out of his mouth and he couldn’t stop it.

Until he held on for a second because – _ha!_ \- he felt his dick waking up inside his pants to remind him deep down in his happily drunk brain, to whom he was talking here. So he quickly turned the fucked up steering wheel of his tongue around, and started to talk about girls. Yeah, it really was that kind of shitty, babbled monologue about the _‘l-word’_ compared to overcoming lust and all the hearts he surely broke.

 _Shit_ , he even mentioned his stupid one-night-stands while his brain was humming _‘She’s my cherry-pie…’_ and he could almost taste it, smell it, this feeling. Sitting in a strip club, crowded room, loud music, glass of gin tonic, dizzy head… thinking about possibilities, dollar notes between his fingers and soon between sweet pink flesh and red thongs. Slim thighs, cute apple tits, adorable waistlines.

_And all that bullshit._

Dean knew it was just empty words. And suddenly, he felt sad. The things he said and the things he actually _thought_ , were completely different. He just kept burbling along, because in his badly drunk state, it was too dangerous to fell silent and start thinking. And then maybe – worst case – talk about _those_ things.

Those things, he _really wanted_.

Nope. So better keep talking about Cherry and Candy and Gina.

But then, he made the big mistake. He tore his gaze away from the golden liquid in his crystal glass and looked into Cas’ eyes. Two clear blue, impossible to withstand, magnetic sapphire spheres in this well-known angel face. And boy, how Cas stared back at him, probably this whole time without saying a single word, sent shivers down Dean’s spine. _As usual_.

Immediately, Dean forgot what he was about to say, and which one of his countless - yet irrelevant - ‘bedtime stories’ he could possibly threw between them. To avoid the inevitable. To build up the barricade. To hide behind the walls of denial.

He almost forgot his own name, because the intensity of Cas’ gaze was different… something… _more_ … just… _unnatural_.

Dean swallowed. Hard. Had no idea that the amount of saliva inside his mouth was _that_ much already.

“Whut, Cas?” he managed to ask. “You… You’re lookin’ at me… like... I dunno… d’ya read my mind, man?”

A little smile played around Castiel’s mouth, and the motherfucker looked so forbidden good, this truly must be a crime. Dean licked his lips.

“I don’t need to read your mind, Dean.” The angel said calmly and looked away to nip on his own whiskey.

Dean scoffed and filled up his glass. Wasn’t it still full just minutes ago? _Fuck it_ – he needed this.

Suddenly, Cas stood up, got rid of his trench coat. As simple as that. In front of Dean. The guy stripped down to his suite right in front of him. Dean was sure he could tell the exact times when he saw Cas without the coat. He didn’t need two hands for it.

Cas stepped behind him, and Dean – brave as he thought he was – didn’t turn around to watch where the angel was going. The sound of Cas’ footsteps was heavy and meaningful, and Dean didn’t dare to move in his chair. In fact, he sat still like a stone, clenching his whiskey glass as if it was his last and only lifeline.

The steps came to a halt somewhere behind him. The hair on Dean’s neck stood upright, in total awareness that the angel certainly stood only inches away from him. He heard the rustling of clothes.

_“What do you want, Dean?”_

Dean almost jumped up from his chair. Castiel’s whispered voice was at his ear, his breath too hot and his mouth too damn close. The whole situation should frighten him to his bones, but thanks to the alcohol, he was in this nice little delirium, where you’re always the hero of your own world, and where there was absolutely nothing you couldn’t handle.

So he grinned his most adorable grin. Too bad Cas couldn’t see it from behind.

“Ha. What I want, you’re asking? Said, you don’t need to read my mind, so yah! Why don’t _youuu_ tell me, huh, smart ass?" Dean was proud of himself, he was so incredibly cool, always a good line on his lips. He felt invincible.

He observed the whiskey in his glass, almost unaware of the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. While waiting for Cas’ what he’d do next.

And then, he must have had some sort of black out, because the next moment he remembered, Cas was astride his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! <3


	3. Approaching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to get rid of clothes... and to stare in awe.

**Act 3 – Approaching**

Dean blinked. And swallowed. Blinked. Twice. Cas was still there. _Upon him_.

Cas placed his fingers on Dean's hand, the one with the whiskey glass and silently forced him to leave the glass to him. The touch was slowly, carefully, maybe even a little timid. As if Dean would really jump up and push the angel away. _No way_.

There was no strength left in him, no nerve in his body did what it was supposed to do - as his ‘best friend’ was upon him. Dean almost could feel the scornful laughter of his subconscious. He really wanted to put the glass back on the table, but there was no time and _no need_ , so Dean just let go of it. The only need was to entangle his fingers with Castiel’s and keep looking into his blue, blue eyes, nowhere else. The shattered glass was a sound far away, and never really reached his conscious thinking.

Suddenly, Cas’ face was close, so close, like never before. And _hell_ , they had been close, everyone saw it, everyone knew it. But like this? Never.

Dean could feel the warmth radiating from the angel’s sinful lips; his breath, his body shifting upon him, the sweet heaviness of his full being on Dean’s lap. On his crotch, which was getting tighter and tighter by the way. The fabric of Cas’ jacket stretched over his broad shoulders and the tie – that silly piece of seriousness around a neck that was so far from decent like heaven and hell – shimmered in silky shades of blue.

A second later, Castiel’s lips were upon his own.

Dean couldn’t process, nor react in any other way than parting his lips. And this was how Cas knew what he wanted. So simple. Deep down, Dean’s ignorance faded away and that dull echo of _“What’s happening? What the fuck is happening?_ ” turned into _“Oh my god, it’s happening.”_

When Cas’ tongue started to explore Dean’s mouth, which felt so damn right, and easy and like the best damn thing in the world – his heart skipped a beat. And everyone knew, when a Winchester’s heart acted strangely, this is the point of no return. Running, fighting, killing, protecting, loving. A passion for life has always dominated their existence, and it would never stop. The sensations were always overwhelming and strong and overflowed by adrenaline. The hormones exploded in his head and he finally was here – in this moment – for real. Not that he was sober, hell no. But the dizziness was pushed aside by deep, extensively pure _lust_. He wanted him. _Oh, how much I wanted him_.

Dean desperately reached out for Castiel’s collar to pull him even closer. _Goddammit_ , he was still too far away. Cas got rid of his jacket before he broke their kiss for a second to rip Dean’s shirt from his torso. The sound of the destroyed fabric, the sheer power of the angel made Dean feel like bathing in dangerously hot lava, it was almost unbearable. Not least because Cas’ legs were spread to either side of Dean’s hips, shamelessly pressing their crotches together.

His cock was hard and his pants were tight, so fucking tight, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into Cas’ hot ass and come inside him. The pure thought of it let his eyes roll back and he knew he had to concentrate on other things first, or he’d blow his load immediately in his boxers like a teenage-pimple-face getting touched down there by his crush.

Sex really was something strange. First, you want to get hot as quickly as possible, and then you want to protract the whole shit as long as you can.

 _Ahh_ – he definitely needed a pause.

Dean placed his big hands underneath Cas’ firm ass and lifted the angel back, onto the table. He was heavy, but not too heavy to hold him, and he shall be doomed if he’d ever deny that he would give anything to feel that weight all over him. Cas looked at him, and his eyes – _fucking shit_ – they were so dark, if Dean hadn’t known they were blue, he would say they were pitch black like the night sky. Dean removed the remaining shreds of his shirt and shortly ran his hands over his own chest and abs while he smiled devilish.

“Fuck, Cas, you have to buy me a new shirt.”

“If this is what you want, then of course.”

“What I want…” Dean began and started to open his belt and then undo his pants. They fell down to the floor and left the hunter standing only in his underwear. His hardness was huge and he saw no need in keeping that last piece of fabric on his skin any longer. So he pushed it down too.

“What I really want…” he repeated as he straightened again, revealing his whole bare body. Naked, strong, the impressive erection the center of the whole statue, irresistibly beautiful.

“… I want you, Cas. Right here, right now.” He reached out for the blue tie, and opened the knot, skillfully, yet slowly, never looked anywhere else than into Cas’ wild eyes.

“And I can tell you want me too.”

Cas really had the nerve to tilt his head while he growled in his probably deepest voice.

“Dean. You’re the only thing I want now.”

No more words needed. The tie was gone quickly, and Dean kissed him again, kissed him like there was nothing left in the world then the two of them, like they weren’t in the bunker, on the war-table, in the very entrance hall of their home. Dim light, cracking metal, sweat on their foreheads.

He managed to break away from Cas’ seductive mouth and made his way down to the angel’s strong neck. Wanted to kiss those veins, those sinews, _ah_.

The sound of Cas’ deep moans originating in his throat, exactly where Dean was playing his tongue and lips on the stubbly skin, had the power to send a twitch through his cock.

Castiel’s hands were deep in the flesh of Dean’s naked ass, before the angel moved his fingers slowly to the front side. With shaky fingers, Dean tried to open the buttons of Cas’s shirt. When he finally freed him from the snow white layer, Cas pushed him back, into the chair he was sitting before.

Dean was an aroused mess, a leaking beauty and a loaded gun, and Cas was ready to give it all to him. To give himself into Dean’s hands because this was what _he_ wanted. Cas pushed down his pants and boxers, all at once, no time to loose.

And there he stood, gorgeous angel of the fucking lord, fallen soldier, fallen for humanity, fallen for Dean, and Dean alone. The hunter felt an overwhelming pride rising in his chest, because he knew, Cas was _his_. His dick twitched at the thought, as if it was proud too, rock hard saluting in anticipation of liberating touches.

Dean held his breath for some seconds as he let his eyes wander over Castiel’s body. He was like friggin’ marble, an ancient Greek god with invisible wings and this look in his eyes, capable of burning cities down to ash. Dean was never really aware of the defined muscles underneath the ridiculous amount of layers which covered Castiel’s fleshly vessel since he knew him. The way his erected cock stood upright, same tanned tone as the rest of the angel’s body, made Dean blink in awe before he reached out for Cas’ hips. He reached out for simple _hold_ , remember what it felt like to touch someone you really, _really_ love, and maybe even experience this feeling for the first time in his cursed life. Oh yes, he wanted to touch every inch of his blue-eyed miracle.

Cas was… the most beautiful thing Dean ever saw.

“ _Cas_ …” Dean breathed, and it was really nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

Dean stared at Cas, and Cas stared at Dean, like they did a million times. Too long, too often. But now it was like Dean was looking at him for the first time; the years, washed away in only a fraction of a second.

Dean remembered Castiel entering that barn – _approaching him_ – like it was the most normal thing of the world when a damn angel chose to talk to a human being. He was captivated by Cas’ presence ever since, and maybe even before; because _holy shit_ , the feeling of a million tiny shards from windows, glass bottles and mirrors that cut little scars in his skin while Cas only tried to _talk_ to him was his first memory of the angel and his power.

From that moment on, he allowed Cas to take him over. An evolving love that now reached its peak as far as he could tell. There was no holding back any more, no doubts, no distractions; just the two of them, and they chose to devote themselves to each other.

The lights began to flicker as Cas approached him now again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I feel honored you made it here! :D


	4. Ashes and Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just Dean and Cas in love. <3

**Act 4 – Ashes and Fire**

And this was how Dean finally realized it.

This? This was _love_. A love he chose all by himself and Cas… he did the same. They both rebelled in their own kind of ways, but they made it up to here and now, and it was right and good, _so good_.

It was their own choice to be here, together, it wasn’t written in some shitty novel or a precast path that’s already laid underneath their feet. No, they were both right here, because of their free will and Dean was absolutely sure, because there was no Chuck anymore. And even if there would have been, he was certain.

 _They were real_. Always have been.

Maybe they should have done this long ago, when Cas’ power would have definitely crashed down the walls and blew off every ceiling while Dean’s desire would have consumed them at day and night – _Yes_ – They maybe should have done it whenever there was the possibility; between endlessly being torn apart and reunited by heaven, hell, or whatever just to keep moving Chuck’s sick hamster wheel.

They would have set the whole world on fire with their love, displease certain entities even more, but it would have been _just fine_.

Never have they felt so free, lifted from the ground and unbound. They were only bound to themselves like it always was, in their very own _profound_ way – and the flames could never be tamed by anyone or anything.

Actually, Dean was sure they _did_ set the world on fire. Nothing was the same after Cas pulled him outta hell. They were both rising from the ashes of their past, leaving it all behind, starting at the beginning.

So now, when Cas finally touched Dean – touched him _fucking_ _everywhere_ – and the hunter just didn’t know on which sensation to concentrate first, his heart caught fire like a tree hit by lightning. The sweat on his forehead slowly found its way down his face, past his jawline, his neck. And when Cas was on him at last, he could feel Cas’ skin burning too. _Goshdammit_ , did that angel have come straight from hell to make him feel this hot?

He was inside this gorgeous being, the real love of his life. He felt it… the _love_ , his burning heart – this was the real thing. It was the purest of all feelings. Dean wanted to shout a curse, because – _fuck_ – this was amazing.

What escaped his lips was a deep moan and the name of the one he always wanted the most.

_“Ohh… Castiel… I…”_

And then he already fucking _came_ – he couldn’t help it – yet somehow he didn’t even want to hold himself back from rushing over the edge, because he was where he belonged and the feeling of love and devotion was just so, _so_ intense. He wanted to give it all to Cas, his heart on a silver plate, all for his angel, all for this love.

And oh sweet lord, how much he had to give. Cas helped him through his wild orgasm and held his head between his strong hands, even wiped away the tears of joy that were freed from Dean’s eyes.

He needed to breath; _yes_ — _dammit_ — _breath —_ his chest jumped up and down while he tried to reach for air, but there seemed to be none. His opened, panting mouth sucked in the molecules while his body still shook like the earth during a volcanic eruption.

 _“I love you – ohh – I always loved you…”_ Dean breathed against Cas’ neck, and it was incredibly liberating to finally speak the words out loud. Air rushed into his lungs as if there was finally room after this confession… It truly made him feel band new.

Cas above him was still moving ecstatically and _shit_ — Dean could clearly tell by the _unholy_ sounds escaping the angel’s mouth that he was close. So close… his beautiful dick leaked and twitched between them and was so ready. He knew what to do.

Dean gripped him tightly.

_“Ahh, dammit, Deeeaan…”_

Castiel’s deep, dark voice, groaning his name, did things to the hunter, he could never have imagined. There’s no way he’d ever forget the sound of Cas voice – _like this_ – when they were literally _one_ ; and he never wanted him more than in this very moment. He wanted him to come for him, because _he_ was the one who made Cas feel this way, and – _my god_ – the angel was so damn beautiful like that.

_“Cas, come for me. Come on, let it go.”_

He was prepared for something unnatural to happen, when it… happened, but this was… unexpectedly glorious.

The moment Cas came all over Dean’s hand and stomach and chest, the dim bunker light literally _exploded_ and for a second it was so damn bright, Dean had do squint his eyes. Heatwaves rolled over Castiel’s body; solar winds in all possible colors and this _sonofabitch_ somehow looked so… _perfect_. Dean couldn’t think of a better word at the moment. Cas’ eyes were closed, hands clawed in the hunter’s shoulders, because now the angel was the one who needed the hold.

Suddenly, just as Dean thought he couldn’t take the heat any longer, a well-known high-pitched sound filled the room and a strong gust of wind hit his face, followed by the rustling feathers. As if the whole atmosphere in the room hadn't already been saturated with the sheer power of their lovemaking, the shimmering heat and the bluish light enfolding them both felt really alien now.

 _His_ _wings_. They manifested on this level of existence, but not only as a shadow – _hell, no_ – they were _really here_. Huge, black as the night, yet incomplete and injured. The burned spots and tattered, broken feathers here and there could not be overlooked. They grew out of Cas’ back, beating back and forth now, causing every unfixed object in the room to swirl around.

The strength and beauty of the energized angel left Dean nothing but staring at him in awe, doing everything he could possible do to make this experience unforgettable and helping his love riding through sensations he probably never felt before. Dean made a quick note in the back of his head to ask Cas afterwards, if this… well, if this was his first sexual experience as an angel with a human being.

Cas' breathing slowly calmed down, and so did the powerful beat of the wings. Dean watched as they already started to fade away slowly, then faster, until they were gone completely. The loud _CLING_ of the countless falling objects made Dean smirk.

“Woah, that was… unexpected.”

Still out of breath, Cas looked at him, confused.

“Your wings, man. I just… _woah_.”

The angel’s eyes grew wide. “You could see them?”

“Cas, you destroyed half of the furniture and certainly soaked the floor with my precious whiskey stock. And I’m sure the light bulbs —“ But Dean stopped here. He caught himself talking nonsense. Again.

Who even cared about inventory, when there’s the one and only angel sitting on your lap? The one he always wanted.

_Castiel._

“Yes, I could see them. They’re gorgeous.” Dean gently stroked the damp skin of Cas’ face. “ _You’re_ gorgeous.”

Castiel only smiled his crooked smile, looking down on him with nothing but the purest love in his bright, devastatingly blue eyes.

Dean wanted to kiss him.

And he did.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for reading! :D  
> I know i'm not a pro in this, but i just HAD to write this from my heart... couldn't leave this in my head and not share with you. :) Take care, my friends! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Take care! :)


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